Goodbyes
by mockingjayde
Summary: Shortly after the Deathly Hallows, Harry goes back to Pivet drive to visit the Dursley's, to let them know he survived and to help them move in again. Three-shot. Each chapter features a different Dursley.
1. Aunt Petunia

**A/N: **For school, we had to write a scene from the books we're reading featuring two characters. I read the Deathly Hallows, and although they aren't my favorite characters, I decided to write about the Dursley's. This is a three-shot fic of Harry coming back to visit them, and to get the goodbyes he never got before. This one is featuring Aunt Petunia, and next to come is Uncle Vernon. I hope you enjoy!  
**JK Rowling owns**.

* * *

Petunia

Harry heard the old car approaching before he could see it, partially due to the fact that it was so cold and foggy outside. The windows of the old Dursley household, from which Harry stood inside of, had been completely frosted over. Through the white window, he could just barely make out the old, black clunker of a car the Dursleys owned. Harry immediately thought of Mr. Weasley's flying car that he and Ron totaled and sighed. Would everything remind him of their adventures together? Harry rubbed his cold arms, made his way over towards the door and opened it.

Uncle Vernon was at the trunk of the car, unloading all their parcels and luggages, swearing bitterly under his breath. Harry couldn't tell if the reason for these swears were from the harsh cold, or if they were from him dreading their reunion. The side car door was open and Aunt Petunia stood in front of it, shivering from the cold air, her legs covered completely with goosebumps. She seemed to be bickering with something in the backseat. Dudley.

"Oi! Boy, are you going to help me with these bags or not?" Uncle Vernon bellowed, bringing Harry's attention back to the rear end of the car. He quickly leaped off the porch and ran to his uncle's aid, picking up a large luggage and carting it back into the house. As Harry was passing the car again, he discovered Aunt Petunia and Dudley were indeed arguing.

"I-I don't want to go out t-there," Dudley said, fear inevitable in his voice.

"Dudders, it's perfectly safe," Aunt Petunia coaxed, "there's nothing to harm us here anymore, pompkin. Just come on out of the car and let's get you inside."

"B-but t-the f-f-f-fog! T-t-those t-t-t-t-things!"

Harry smirked in spite of himself. He remembered Dudley's run in with the dementors two years back. The dementors emerged from the thick mist surrounding the playground and attacked Harry and Dudley. No wonder why he was so afraid now. He was thinking that they'd appear out of the fog and pursue him once more.

After a few more minutes of arguing and resistance from Dudley, Aunt Petunia gave up, slammed the car door shut and helped Harry and Uncle Vernon unload the rest of the luggage.

Once inside, Aunt Petunia took off her coat and hung it neatly on the bare coat rack. Uncle Vernon did the same, also stopping to take off his boots and his hat. Both of them hadn't so much looked at Harry since they arrived.

Harry rocked back on his heels. "So…"

Uncle Vernon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh… hullo there bo- I mea- uh… Harry." His plumb cheeks took on a rosy pink as he looked at the ground, embarrassed. It was the first time (that Harry could remember anyways) that Vernon called him by his name, rather than just 'you' or 'boy.' As awkward and uncomfortable as he felt, Harry couldn't help put suppress a small smile.

"Hello sir," he adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose and shoved his hands into his pockets. Uncle Vernon muttered something Harry couldn't quite understand under his breath. He eyed Harry skeptically, as if he'd suddenly spontaneously combust and then grabbed his coat back from the coat rack and put his boots back on.

"I'm going to try to get Dudley out of the car," he said to Petunia, and without making eye contact with Harry, he made his way out the door.

Aunt Petunia shifted her weight onto the opposite leg. Now she was alone with him, much like the last time, before Harry left to search for the horcruxes a year ago. There was a brief moment then, where it appeared that Aunt Petunia had wanted to say something to Harry, but instead of saying it, she darted through the door without a seconds glance. Harry had briefly wondered what she was going to say, but as soon as the car had left the driveway, all thoughts of the Dursley's had cleared his mind. But now, Harry wondered what she was going to say and by the look on Aunt Petunia's face now, he could tell she was thinking about it, the same.

"Harry…"

Harry's eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

"T-t-thank you," she said, her voice hardly audible, "for saving Dudley's life back with the dementors."

He nodded. "Don't mention it. But again, it would have been his soul they would have taken."

"I-I know. I remember Lily and… that _boy_ talking about it. But I'm still thankful, Harry." She placed a large hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked up at her plump face and half smiled. He recalled young Petunia from Snape's Pensive memory. Young, curious, and jealous that she was a Muggle and not a witch like Lily. She was caught spying on Snape and Lily as they were talking about dementors and magic in the forest that one sunny afternoon before they left for Hogwarts. Is that why she never liked Harry much? Because she was jealous he had been blessed with the magical arts and she hadn't been? Or was she just simply upset that she had lost her sister to the world of witches and wizards, and that Lily had spent more time with young Snape rather than her?

"Aunt Petunia," Harry started, "when was the last time you saw Snape? You know, the boy your sister used to play with.?"

Aunt Petunia took her hand off of Harry's shoulder and put it on her hips. "I remember I saw him hiding in our rose bushes out back. Lily was reading through one of her textbooks on the couch and I was knitting on the recliner next to her. Lily got up angrily out of the blue and stormed off. I thought she had officially gone mad, until I looked out the window and saw a glimpse of black hide behind the bush. I knew for sure that it was that Snape boy."

"He loved my mother, you know," Harry said sorrowfully.

Aunt Petunia's voice was bitter, "everybody did."

Anger suddenly started to swell inside Harry's chest. After all his mother did for him… after everything. He wasn't going to stand there and let her get insulted. "Your still jealous, aren't you? Your still angry that you're a Mugg- that you-"

Aunt Petunia took a step back, eyes widening. She took a quick glance at the wand peeking out of Harry's pocket. Probably scared that he was going to use it against her. This didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"Oh, um.." he said awkwardly, drawing the wand out of his pocket, his rage retreating. Aunt Petunia glanced at the sofa, like she was getting ready to jump behind it to shield herself.

"No," Harry said, holding the wand out to Aunt Petunia, "I'm not going to use magic on you. Here, take it, if you want to."

Skeptical though, Aunt Petunia cautiously took a few steps towards Harry. She continued the motion to grab the wand, but stopped before she actually made contact.

"Lily had a wand, didn't she? I remember it. I remember trying to break it when she was sleeping one time.."

Harry half smiled. "All wizards and witches get them when they turn 11. At Olivanders." Harry wondered for a quick second whether or not he should be revealing that information to a Muggle, but then he remembered who he was talking to; Lily Evan's only living relative. The thought quickly left his mind.

Aunt Petunia's finger began to trace the patterns in the sofa. Another awkward silence spread between them. Harry looked out the foggy window. Uncle Vernon was obviously arguing with Dudley, who was still hiding in the car. Vernon's face was getting puffy and red with rage; he was quickly loosing his patience. For some odd reason, Harry felt like smiling. Maybe because it was nice to see Uncle Vernon yelling at someone other than himself. He stuffed his wand back into his pocket and turned to Aunt Petunia.

"I think I'm going to try to get Dudley out of the car," he said lightheartedly, sensing an end to their conversation. Aunt Petunia nodded once, and Harry proceeded towards the door.

Harry's hand was on the doorknob when he heard Aunt Petunia say his name. He turned around and faced her, perplexed.

"Harry…" Aunt Petunia said again, quietly-broken- her eyes welling quickly with tears. She shuffled her feet awkwardly, and not knowing what to do with her hands, she folded them behind her back, then across her chest, then behind her back once more. Harry was reminded once more of their last goodbyes. Aunt Petunia took a deep breath-steeling herself-and then with great difficulty, she met Harry's eyes. Once the hazel met the green, her eyes dampened with a fresh wave of tears.

"Yeah?"

"You…" Aunt Petunia swallowed painfully, "you have your mother's eyes, dear. Lily's exactly."

Harry grinned, the once painful memory of his mother felt more to him like a happy dream. What was once the night became the day. Harry twisted the doorknob and the door swung open, letting a cool breeze enter the house. He took a small step on the front ledge and looked back at his Aunt Petunia, the smile still gleaming on his face.

"I know," he said happily, meeting Petunia's eyes once more, "I know."

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews/ConCrit would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	2. Uncle Vernon

**A/N:** Part two of my three-shot! Sorry I didn't update last week, I was out of town. Anyways, this chapter is Harry's goodbye to Uncle Vernon. Pardon it's shortness, I didn't know how to expand and to be honest, I really don't like Vernon. Also, sorry for any incorrect use of British slang or OCC. Hope you enjoy!  
**JK Rowling owns.**

* * *

Vernon

Harry stepped out into the cold and quietly shut the Dursley's front door behind him. His breath was visible through the freezing air, and it must have dropped a few degrees since the last time he was outside. The fog as well, continued to roll in. For a minute, Harry wondered if it really _was_ the dementors coming after him again. He took his wand from his pocket as an extra precaution.

"Fine, Dudley! You can ruddy well stay in there then!" Uncle Vernon shouted angrily, slamming the car door shut. Through the vehicle window, Harry saw Dudley bury his face in his meaty hands. He really was afraid to leave the car. A strange wave of deja-vu washed over Harry, but he couldn't exactly place what was so familiar.

Uncle Vernon stormed towards he house, muttering streams of vicious profanities under his breath. His face was bright pink and puffy. He was so absorbed in anger that without knowing it he ran straight into Harry.

"OI! BOY!" he bellowed, fumbling backwards. "Er… didn't see ya there."

"Sorry, sir. I should have moved." Harry said awkwardly, looking up and Uncle Vernon's ham-like face. Vernon's eyes narrowed as he examined Harry. Sort of like a butcher at the shops would to do an animal before he would begin his job. His eyes widened when he saw the wand in Harry's hand.

"Bloody nora! What's this business?" he screamed, jumping back. Uncle Vernon's eyes flickered continuously between Harry's face and the wand. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you? You're trying to bloody kill me!"

Harry tightened his grip on the wand. He was suddenly reminded of all those torturous years living with the Dursley's. The abuse and atrocities this man had made an effort to put so much in Harry's life. For a minute, Harry imagined Uncle Vernon hanging upside down by his pant leg, or perhaps with a pig nose. Although the satisfaction would be tremendous, Harry knew better.

"I'm not trying to kill you," Harry said calmly. "What I would try to kill, though, would be the dementors, if they decided to come out of this fog."

Uncle Vernon grumbled to himself. "Rubbish. We were told you defeated that Volershort-Voldergort, Volde-" his face contorted and reddened even further with anger and frustration. He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. He gave up trying to pronounce the name. "They told us there was nothing for us to worry about anymore. Nothing at all! Don't tell me they blooming lied to us! Those ruddy, good for nothing-"

Uncle Vernon continued screeching even more profanities, cursing magical things and unmagical things alike. For a moment, it seemed that he forgot completely of Harry's presence, lost in thought of the words streaming out of his mouth, until Harry cleared his throat,

"Sir, if you don't mind, I'll be trying to get your son out of the car. Unless of course, you'd rather him freeze in there."

Vernon stopped his swears mid-sentence, his eyes meeting Harry's coldly. "Alright, but any funny business and I will call up that Ministry of yours and have you… you… have you whatever they do to lads like you! You hear me, boy?"

The image of his uncle trying to call the Ministry on an average payphone was enough to make Harry laugh, but before it could escape his lips, he stopped himself. In compromise, a small smile arose on his face and he nodded, agreeing to his uncle's ridiculous order.

"Alright," Uncle Vernon said in a very posh tone of voice, quickly straightening out an invisible crease in his jacket. He looked at Harry as if he was second guessing his decision, but he did not. Once Vernon was about to walk thorough the open door of his house, he turned around to Harry once more,

"No funny business, Harry Potter. I don't care if you're my wife's nephew. I don't care if you're the greatest wizard of the now. You will always be that annoying prat that lived under my staircase."

Uncle Vernon gave Harry one last stern look, turned around, and walked into his house with his head held high.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews/ConCrit would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!


End file.
